Deeper
by NaturallyBroken
Summary: The third story in a series with no name. This is where Captain America steps up, Black Widow lets her guard down and Hawkeye goes a step too far. Read Fallen and Sanctuary first to understand the story so far. Rated M for language, violence and adult themes.
1. Firsts

_A/N In case you didn't read the synopsis this is the third story in a series with no name. The first two are Fallen and Sanctuary. It would probably help greatly to read those two first. _

It took three weeks for all the paperwork and meetings to be completed before Steve Rogers, Captain America, was officially named handler for the Avenger initiative. Apparently saving the world didn't save you from red tape. It didn't bother Steve one bit. After all of what they had been through lately with betrayal and Natasha's kidnapping and torture, a little more paperwork to ensure her, and everyone else's security was a small price to pay.

Steve entered the building fifteen minutes ahead of time, to account for any new security check-in procedures. He was wearing a brand new suit, picked out by Tony Stark that was clashing horribly with his old pack that contained his lunch and a sketchpad. Agent Hill was waiting for him just past the security check point.

"Morning Rogers, last chance to back out."

"Not a chance Hill, I asked for this."

"That in itself should've kept you from passing the psych exam," Maria chuckled. "I'm here to show you to your new office and answer any questions you may have." Maria gave him a small tour on the way to his office, showing him the new areas his higher security clearance gave him access to. Finally they arrived at his office. Steve immediately knew it was his because someone had taped a cardboard replica of his shield to the door. Slightly embarrassed he carefully removed the shield. "You're never going to be a just a civilian Captain," Maria said.

"I've known that for over seventy years. Just don't want it affecting my job."

"Any questions?"

"Not right now, but I may call you."

"My number is already in your rolodex, extension and cell. I'm at your disposal."

"Thanks, you have always been a great help." Maria lingered at the door for a few more moments saying nothing. Then with a sigh and a wave she headed back to her office.

Steve closed the door and took in his new surroundings. He hadn't thought much about decorating but it seemed that someone had. On one wall someone had hung another, more realistic, replica of his shield; on another was a gathering of photos, all the members of his team. Upon closer inspection it looked like most had all been taken in his back yard the day he announced his new position. "Sneaky little devils," Steve said with a smile. Natasha's photo looked more recent. There were no longer bruises on her face, and her shortened hair was starting to show some signs of growing out. It was the only obvious reminder of what had happened.

On his desk along with the previously mentioned rolodex, were a keyboard and monitor, a nameplate, and a basket of fruit. Attached to the basket was a card that read "Cafeteria food here sucks, you definitely want to keep something in your desk. This should tide you over until tomorrow. By the way you are having dinner with us tonight – Clint and Natasha."

Apparently wanting to drive the point home, Clint was standing in the doorway. "Morning Cap', or is it Steve, Agent Rogers…What am I supposed to call you now?"

"Whatever you want Clint, I'm sure the rest of the team will do the same. I guess officially I'm Agent Captain Rogers, but that sounds like a mouthful. So what do you need? I'm assuming this isn't a social call."

Clint laughs, "Already sounding like him. Well actually this is a social call. I wanted to know what kind of food you wanted us to bring out tonight. I'm cooking."

"You don't have to do that, you're guests."

"As many times as I've been out there, I'm no longer a guest Cap'. And as far as Natasha is concerned…" Clint leans across Steve's desks and whispers. "How are you and Nat working out?"

"What did she say?"

"I think the direct quote was 'That's none of your fucking business.' I couldn't figure out if that was a good none of my fucking business or bad. Sometimes even I can't read her."

"Well I'm not saying anything if she's not. She has weapons you know."

"Come on. Can't I just get a good or bad?"

Steve smiled, "Good, very good. Now isn't there a briefing that you should be at?"

"Yes, Agent Captain Rogers sir," Clint said with a smirk. "I guess I'll just surprise you with something. Maybe I'll make something from your precious Food Channel. We'll be at your place at seven."

Steve really didn't have much to do his first day at work. Fury, with the help of Hill, had been keeping all the administrative duties for the Avenger Initiative up to date during the transition. It was the least they could do. Steve turned on his computer and decided to see what his new security clearance granted him access to. He immediately put IVAN KOLSTOV into his search. Tony had offered to get him the files he wanted but Steve would not be party to illegal activity against S.H.I.E.L.D. The rest of the team was mad at him for not allowing Tony to help. Accept for Natasha, she had touched his arm and told him she understood when he told Tony no. It had surprised him; she above all others was the one with the most to settle with the arms dealer cum kidnapper and torturer.

Steve search yielded several files, most were grayed out however. Steve clicked on one of the non-grayed out files and it just contained basic information. Very basic. General description, pasts arrests, recent sightings, all of which Natasha had already told him. Except that there was the sighting a week after Natasha had been rescued. It was in Paris, France, but it was only a fifty-four percent possible match so nothing to get too invested in. He closed the file and opened another. It was Natasha's debriefing with Fury. Steve immediately closed the file. He would read it someday he supposed, especially if he needed to but he really wasn't interested in thinking about what happened to her right now. Most of bruises had finally gone away and the cuts mostly healed, it made being with her easier. He didn't have to deal with the nagging feeling that he had failed her, that they all failed her.

The next file he opened was a hierarchy chart. Most of the names were blacked out but there was Kolstov's among the ten names on the third row. Steve was surprised that he was up that high and still considered only a 'top priority'. Maybe the other files could offer some insight. He decided to give Agent Hill a call.

"Hi Maria, I know it's not even noon and I already have a question. I'm looking at some files on the computer and I can't get some of them to open."

"Are they gray?"

"Yes."

"Then they are above your security clearance."

"Really? I would've thought handlers had a pretty high clearance. How many security levels are above mine?"

"Officially, four."

"Unofficially?"

"Five, apparently there are things that even Fury isn't allowed to see."

Steve blew out a low whistle. "So is there anyway besides promotion to know what's in those files? Maybe not the exact contents, but say maybe just the subject of the contents."

"Well," Maria paused as if considering something. "Someone with a higher clearance can grant specific and limited access to higher classified information. I'm two levels above you…"

"I hate to ask but…"

"I'm not authorizing you for any of the Kolstov files."

"How did you know that was what I was going to ask about?"

"I'm not just a pretty face Rogers. Besides, everyone knows that the Avengers are all out for revenge for what happened to Romanoff. I'm just not going to be a party to you all going off half-cocked and screwing up something so much bigger that you don't even have a clue about."

"Well if I had access to those files, maybe we could make a more informed decision."

"Look if you want those files, talk to Fury. I washed my hands of this when we got Barton back."

"Okay, I understand. I'll talk to Fury."

He tried calling Fury but was routed back to the main switchboard who said he would be in meetings until near the end of the day. So after eating lunch he decided to catch up on his team's files. Barton had been sent on two short missions in the last three weeks. Mostly security details for moving items, which were blacked out in the reports, to different facilities. There was also a disciplinary action filed against him, by Agent Strickland. Apparently Clint had run into him in a hallway and punched him several times in the face, breaking his nose. "He never said anything to me about this," Steve thought. In fact Clint had apparently lied to Steve about where the scrapes on his hand had come from. Steve made a mental note to talk to Clint later. He couldn't have his team lying to him.

Everyone else's files didn't have any real updates. Natasha still had to come in for weekly psychological evaluations. He knew about those though. She would come over to his house afterward and complain about how unnecessary they were. Then they would watch a movie and both pretend that the evaluations weren't dredging up all kinds of things that would have been better off left buried. The first time she stayed the night, in the guest room. Midway through the night Steve was awaked by the hoarse screams of Natasha relieving some horrible part of her life. He crawled into bed beside her and lay with her until morning, holding her close and soothing her whenever she began to stir. After that, they slept in his bed. Well she, slept, he watched sentry over her, protecting her from the demons of her past that he couldn't slay.

But there was one he could help with. He checked the time and figured he would go visit Fury since he should be out of his meetings by now.

"Captain Rogers, enjoying your first day behind a desk?" Fury looked up from the paperwork covering every inch of his desk.

"Yes sir, I think I'm adjusting pretty well. Hope I don't spend most of my time there though."

"Completely understand. I rather be under enemy fire than behind this desk. But it's part of the job. So what do you need?"

"I would like to get access to some of the Kolstov files, but Agent Hill said I would have to come to you for authorization."

"First day and you are already diving into that mess. I think I've told you several times already to let it go. Kolstov is a top priority and not your team's mission."

"Frankly sir, we both know what 'top priority' means. And I don't see what the harm it could be for my team to look into this when we are not otherwise occupied. In the last three weeks the only one who's been sent out is Barton. I know Romanoff has still not been released for field work yet, and I wouldn't show her the files until she's ready…"

"Don't let this 'thing' you've got going on with Romanoff cloud your judgment." Fury said.

"Thing sir?"

"Don't make me spell it out Rogers, you and Natasha, don't let it become an issue. Probably don't want to let Barton know about it. He's liable to try and see how indestructible you really are."

"How do you know sir?" Fury didn't say anything, instead just gave him a look. "Well no need to worry about Clint, he knows and approves. I still don't understand that, but I'm just accepting his word."

Fury arches an eyebrow, "Barton already knows? I need to work on my sources."

"I should probably go before I say too much…" Steve heads to the door.

"Rogers. Leave this Kolstov stuff alone, there is more at stake than a redhead's honor."

"You know I can't sir. And it's not because it's Natasha, it's because it involves a member of my team."

"You are a S.H.I.E.L.D. member first. You will follow orders."

"Just like you did when the council ordered a nuclear strike on Manhattan?"

Fury sighed and rubbed his fingers along either side of the bridge of his nose. "Give me a couple days to look through the files and decide what you can have access to. Just don't fuck up the bigger picture Rogers."

"I'll keep you informed of any progress we make and I'll let you now before we make direct contact with Kolstov." Rogers left the office before getting a response from Fury.

Steve stopped by his favorite bakery on the way home. It was one that had been around when he was a kid. None of the original people were still around but it still tasted the same. He loved finding places like this it didn't make him feel so out of touch with the rest of the world. Once he got home he just had time to shower, change, and take his neighbor one of the cupcakes he bought before Clint and Natasha arrived.

"I went simple and made lasagna, Natasha made the salad," Clint said as he pushed past Steve towards the kitchen. "Oh yeah, she also picked the wine. According to her I have no taste."

"You don't," Natasha responded after giving Steve a quick kiss hello. Steve tries to glance back subtly to see if Clint saw it. He didn't but Steve turned back to see Natasha frowning at him. "You still having trouble with this aren't you," she whispered.

"Sorry."

"It's okay," she responded when clearly it wasn't.

"Foods in the oven, maybe we can have some of your snotty wine while we wait Nat." Natasha opens the wine while Steve gets the glasses then they all go into the living room until dinner is ready. Clint and Natasha sit on the couch while Steve chooses the chair the farthest away from them.

"Why so far away Cap? There is plenty of room on the other side of Nat."

"I'm fine here."

Natasha sighs, "Would it help if I told you he's currently dating someone else?"

"Oh yeah, you'd like her Cap'. I've seen her around for a while but we didn't start seeing each other until couple of weeks ago, you know once I knew Natasha was okay," Clint said patting Natasha's leg.

"I wish you would tell the damn staff shrink that. I'm ready to go back to work."

"Are you sure?" Steve asked remembering the last time she was there, of how she woke up fighting and drenched in sweat.

"I was having nightmares long before this Steve. You can't do the work we do without having some… side effects. They don't care about that." Natasha was almost able to keep the bitterness out of her voice. "They just want to make sure I can't be coerced."

"Would you like me to say something to Fury?"

Natasha shook her head "No, it's standard procedure that the agent is out for six weeks. I'm just getting bored and stir crazy, that's all."

"We could… never mind."

"We could what Steve?"

"Never mind," Steve stands up and grabs the wine glasses, "I'll refresh everyone's drinks."

"Sit. Tell me what's wrong." Natasha reaches up and touches Steve's hand. He pulls away.

"I need to refill these and probably check on the food."

"Sit." Natasha doesn't raise her voice but it's tinged with the deadly coldness that can't be ignored. Steve sets the glasses back down and turns to head to his chair when Natasha catches his hand, squeezing it in what would be a painful grip to anyone else. "Here, beside me. Tell me what's wrong."

Steve relents and collapses on the couch beside Natasha, "It's nothing really, just having a little trouble adjusting to this. I accept that Clint is okay with this. I don't mind knowing that when you're not with me, that you are probably with him. I didn't think I would but, I can't explain it. It's just seems almost right. I'm not sure if you were seeing someone else if it would."

"I don't plan on seeing anyone else Steve. Unless it's an assignment and that's not the same at all."

"I know."

"Then what is it?"

"It's stupid."

Clint suddenly stands up, "I'm going to check the food while you two play dentist."

"Huh?" Steve and Natasha look at Clint perplexed.

"Pulling teeth to get you to say what's on your mind Cap'. I just don't have the patience to watch. Spit it out already." Clint picks up the glasses. "I'll fill these while I'm at it. Something tells me someone's going to need a drink."

After Clint leaves, Natasha turns to Steve. "He's right you know. You're dancing around something. It's not going to make it any better if I have to pull it out of you word by word. Just tell me."

"It's all the secrecy." After Natasha didn't respond Steve continued. "I guess when I thought of dating and possibly falling in love with a girl, excuse me woman, I imagined taking her out. You know dinner, movies, maybe even dancing. I would take her out to art museums and share with her all my favorite paintings. I would hold her hand as we walked down the street. But I guess that's old fashioned. Just another thing I need to learn about this new world."

"It's not old fashioned. It sounds nice."

"But not something we can do."

"It's me. Clint takes his other girlfriends out on dates all the time. We've never been on a real date. We went out once, but that's when he had been sent to kill me and I was trying to see if he could be corrupted to my cause. He accepts that. Maybe because he can find someone else to take out."

"I know your privacy…"

"It has nothing to do with privacy. I'm sure everyone at S.H.I.E.L.D. knows about me and Clint, even if they don't say it out loud. I'm sure they'll know about us soon enough."

"Fury knows, I swear I didn't tell him."

"I'm not surprised. Steve, it's, it's that every…date I've been on has been as part of a mission. I don't know if I could be myself on a date. Black Widow knows how to lure, seduce, and be the perfect date companion. I'm not sure I could relax enough to enjoy it."

"It's okay, really. I'm working on getting used…"

Natasha put a single finger up to Steve's lips, "But I'm willing to try. For you. Just once, I can't promise future…dates."

Steve smiles and lightly kisses her finger as he takes her hand into his. "Are you free Saturday? I know the perfect place for us to go."

"I've got nothing for three more weeks."

"Good. It's a date then. Smells like dinner maybe ready, I guess I should go set the table," Steve says getting up from the couch. Natasha gets up as well.

"I'll go help; I still need to put the dressing on the salad." Steve stops her before she can walk off, caresses her face, lifting her chin up then leans in.

"I neglected to give you a proper kiss when you came in." After a few minutes Steve finally steps back and allows Natasha to come up for air. She notes that his technique has improved greatly over these short few weeks as evidenced by her desire to skip dinner entirely and send Clint back to the city alone. "Hungry?"

"I was thinking of a different word beginning with H actually," Natasha said breathlessly.

"What word?"

"We can discuss it later. Saturday, after our date. Right now, I want a second glass of wine." Steve followed Natasha into the kitchen trying to figure what the 'H' word she was talking about.


	2. Steps

_Sorry it's taken so long to update this story, but believe me you didn't want to read the previous version of this chapter. The therapy technique mentioned in this chapter is real, although I took some liberties with it to move along the process. As always thanks for reading._

When Natasha arrived at Steve's house on Saturday she was in the fourth outfit she tried on that day. He still hadn't told her where they were going on their first official date, but he told her it would be outside and they would be walking. Natasha settled on an unbuttoned red blouse over a black tank top and jeans. She finished the outfit off with a pair of short hiking boots. This was the most dressed down she had ever been for a date, but then this was the first time it wasn't part of the job.

Steve opened the door before Natasha had the time to knock. Although he was trying to hide it, he was more nervous than he could remember. The only thing that probably ranked as high was right before he was injected with the serum.

"Am I late?" Natasha asked as she attempted to pass Steve and step into the house.

"No, not at all. I thought I heard your car so I just went to the door to look. Um if you're ready we can leave." Steve stammered.

Natasha turned to Steve, "If you want just stay here, it is fine."

"No, I'm fine. Just want to get there before it gets crowded."

Natasha turned and headed back to her car, Steve following her. "You know Steve we are going on a date, not to an execution."

After Steve gave her directions to generally where they were headed, he lapsed into silence.

"So are you going to tell me where we are going? I'm driving; eventually I'll need to know."

"It's a surprise, I'll let you know soon enough," Steve laughed nervously.

Natasha reached over and laid one hand on his thigh. "I'm not going to back out, if that's what you are worried about."

"You haven't heard where we are going yet."

"Steve," She took a second to look over at him, then refocused back on the road. "I don't like this version of you. I like the strong, take charge Steve Rogers. I'm past school yard childishness."

"Sorry, Natasha. Super serum doesn't extend to social awkwardness." Steve apologized, and tries to shake the nervousness. He didn't know why being out in public with her was making him act this way. "We are going to a county fair. Thought we could use something sort of peaceful. Something fun."

"I don't remember them being very peaceful, lots of kids running around, people yelling. It was hard to focus on my target."

"This will be different; you have no other mission but to enjoy yourself."

And Natasha did enjoy herself, despite her misgivings. Steve insisted that they ride on every ride and try most every food available. Steve did most of the eating while cajoling Natasha to at least try a bite. She stopped him by the time they hit the most sugary deserts, candied apples and cotton candy. "Not all of us have super soldier metabolism. I'm going to have to be in the gym long enough already." Natasha reminded him.

Steve dragged Natasha along through the exhibit tents and they sat through two sets of local musicians. She understood now why he wanted her to wear good walking shoes. By the time they finally made it back to the car, sometime near dusk, she would've sworn they had walked a marathon. But one thing she noticed is that all day a smile never seemed to leave Steve's face. And if she was honest, she had worn one much of the day as well.

Driving back to Steve's place, there was silence again, but more of a content silence than was before. "Did you enjoy yourself?" Steve said patting a belly that was full despite his overactive metabolism.

"Yes Steve, exhausted but I enjoyed myself."

"You know if you too tired to drive back into town, the guest room is always available."

"So I'm only allowed in your bed if I'm damaged." Natasha snapped back; the suggestion hitting the ever present sore point between them.

"That's not what I meant. I just don't want to make assumptions."

"You still don't trust that Clint is okay with it? Fine, don't worry, I can make it back to the city on my own. Don't want to mess up your guest room."

Steve reached across and put his hand on Natasha's thigh, she tensed against the touch, "I'm sorry. Don't let my stupidity ruin the day. You look so beautiful when you happy. Hell you look beautiful all the time, just even more so."

Natasha didn't respond but drove on for another mile or two before reaching down and placing her hand on top of Steve's. "When are you going to trust Clint, trust me?"

"I do trust both of you. I trust you with my life every time we are out on mission."

"But not with your heart."

"I just don't want anyone to get hurt."

"It's love Steve, someone always gets hurt."

Natasha didn't stay and after a few long kisses goodnight, Steve got out of the car and watched as she backed out of his driveway and headed down the road.

"Hey Cap', didn't expect to hear from you tonight. Something go wrong on the date?"

"No Clint, not at all, it was lovely. Although I think Natasha may never want fair food again."

"You got her to eat fair food, like corn dogs and cotton candy?"

"Well only a bite here or there."

Clint chuckled, "You're a better man than me. Okay the date went well, so nothing personal but why are you calling me?"

"Just to let you know that Natasha is on her way home."

"I know that Cap' she already called me. She sounded a bit tense, but then I couldn't tell if there was something wrong or Nat just being Nat."

"She's probably still mad at me. Says I don't trust you two."

"Of course you do, can't really going on a mission without a level of…"

"She meant with my heart. That I still don't trust you're okay and…"

"Oh. I gotta side with her on this one. I know it may be hard to accept but I'm okay with this arrangement, we are both are. I also know that the concept maybe be new to you but you do care about her right?"

"Of course Clint, more than I ever thought I would."

"Then if you want to be with her it's something you have to decide if you can accept. I had to, but then it was easier for me I guess, when she brought it up, it just put words to what I had always felt."

"She brought it up? I always thought…"

"It was me? Well I think I've definitely taking the most advantage of the situation but then it's not my job to seduce the enemy. Look Cap' the only person holding you back is you. Just enjoy being with her, she's a great girl. Trust that I'm okay with it because I am. Hell I even think you two look good together. Annoyingly cute when you think no one is watching. But if you find that you just can't hack the arrangement be truthful and let her go. Don't dick her over, I'd have to kick your ass."

Steve had to chuckle at that, if for no other reason than to relieve the tension of the situation. "Are you sure you can do that, the ass kicking I mean?"

"An arrow to the ass can be a lot more painful than you think. She's home. Good night Cap'."

Steve didn't really sleep that night, not that he needed much. However, he could've lived without the tossing and turning he did, caused by the inner conflict about Natasha. He loved her, he knew that and he cared for Clint a lot, he was his "brother" after all. But they were right; he didn't trust them completely when it came to this. He couldn't figure out why. They were all adults, and it was the modern world, he assumed anything could possibly work. It was just that he grew up believing, hoping that someone would look past his failings, his sickness, and love him. He would have a decent job, they would have a good apartment or if he was lucky enough they could move out of the city to a nice house, maybe a farm for their children to grow up. But now everything was different. Marriage was two, not three and he would never, could never ask Natasha to choose. Besides, he didn't think Natasha was the kind to settle down and be a housewife and she damn sure couldn't do her job pregnant.

But then he thought, could he even have kids? Had the super soldier serum affected that in some way? Could he pass it on to his kids? And what if it mutated the child's genes and they ended up something like Banner? In the end he decided that he'd have to let the past go eventually and think new about everything. The world wasn't what it once was and neither was he.

The next morning found Steve at his desk going over the current caseload for S.H.I.E.L.D., seeing if any of his people could assist. He was learning very quickly that people weren't going out of their way to include his team on assignments. Despite saving the world, most of his team was still looked upon as loose cannons. He felt sorry mostly for Clint and Natasha because this was their job before the initiative; they were the same people as before, if not better in his opinion. He spotted a few where Clint's marksmanship would be an asset and sent off a quick email to the agent in charge of the case. He had just hit send when there was a knock at his door. He opened the door to find Fury with a small stack of papers.

"Most people just send everything by email these days. I still like to flip through papers every once in a while. I figured you would feel the same," Fury announced as he shoved the papers into Steve's hand, pushing his way past and into one of the chairs in front of his desk. Steve closed the door and joined him. "Those are what I think is okay for you to know about Kolstov. Don't ask for anymore, that's all you get."

"Thank you sir.

"Don't thank me so quickly there isn't much information. I'm sure Romanoff has given you most of it, this just puts it in context."

"Actually, she hasn't been able to give us much. I was hoping that the therapy sessions would help her remember. All it seems to do is bring back the nightmares and those are just about the torture."

"And you think hunting down this Kolstov is going to make those nightmares go away somehow?"

"No sir. That's just a healing process. Hunting down Kolstov means she, my team, will be safer."

"Their agents Rogers. Safer is at best a delusion."

"But they shouldn't have to worry about their fellow agents turning on them. Do you really think that we got everyone out loyal to Kolstov, more importantly to former Agent Lewis?"

"Don't be naïve Captain. We've had rogue agents since day one. We even have several of our agents buried in enemy agencies." Fury gets up and heads back to his office, "Doesn't your team have better things to work on?"

"I'm sure there is, but since we seemed to be excluded from every mission that comes through it's kind of hard. I've sent messages to mission leaders but no response."

"Well there is a backlog of cases with no mission head attached. Maybe look into them."

"Most of that is just research crap and you know it."

"Then grow a pair Captain and shove your way end."

"I was trying to be nice."

"Nice isn't going to get you far here Rogers."

"Yes sir."

Steve spent the afternoon going over the Kolstov paperwork. Fury was right there wasn't much, but compared to what his team already knew, it was a gold mine. There were a few things he picked up they didn't know before. What struck him the most was a file detailing Kolstov's background.

Steve remembered how when Natasha was out of her head she kept calling him Boy Scout and good soldier comparing him with Kolstov. But he didn't have any real idea what she meant. Looking over the papers he hoped she didn't view him as this mindless, this robotic. It seems Kolstov followed every order of the training program, did whatever was asked without question. Where as most of the children were brought to the program kicking and screaming, many snatched from the arms of crying parents, Ivan Kolstov came voluntarily. When first approached for training, young Ivan only asked one question, did he need his parents' consent. Kolstov's loyalty was never questioned and he didn't receive the same mind control and tortures that Natasha and many others had to bring them in line.

After training Kolstov was responsible for blowing over a hundred buildings, killing or maiming thousands of innocent people, and been a participant in the rape and torture of countless others. Never once did he waver from the commands of his handlers. If anything he went above and beyond. Then suddenly he walked away. One month he's living in the Soviet Union, the next he's completely off radar. Chatter for the next six months indicated that this was not a part of any mission, everyone was looking for him. Then he shows up at a clandestine arms sale, out bidding everyone for the latest tech. Who he had been working for at the time, no one knew and still don't.

Steve decides it may be a good time to call Tony.

"Hey Ice Man, not a good time. I'm right in the middle of something."

"This won't take long Tony. It's about Kolstov."

"That bastard? Give me a minute." Steve waited patiently while Tony finished whatever he was working on. He wasn't sure if something was being created or destroyed by the sound of it. "Suit upgrades," Tony explained after the noise stopped. "So where is he and when do we get to kick his ass. I know Legolas and Red get first dibs but still I wouldn't mind getting a piece of…"

"Haven't found him yet. But you can maybe help with that."

"How?"

"Well most of the intel on Kolstov is classified above my pay grade…"

"You know I could hack…"

"No, Tony. I want to know if you were at an arms sale outside Cairo five years ago."

"Maybe, I was pretty hands on then as far as sales."

"Kolstov was reported to have purchased everything at the sale."

Tony was quiet for a few moments, "Oh yeah I remember now, didn't realize it was the same guy. I swear he wasn't using that name. Didn't bother to haggle, you just named the price and he bought it. Was expecting to hear about a revolution or at least a coup somewhere but nothing ever happened. Well nothing that wasn't already underway before the sale."

"You still tracing old Stark tech down?"

"Of course. Think he's still selling off the stock?"

"Maybe or at least dealing with the same people he's sold to before."

"Give me a few hours, I should have something."

"Take your time. It's not like we can move on it yet."

"Hmm?"

"Nothing. Thanks Tony."

"JARVIS will be doing all the heavy lifting," Tony replied waving off the comment. "How's Red doing?"

"Natasha is getting better I guess. I don't think the therapy sessions are being particularly helpful. Not remembering anything new and the nightmares just seem to continue…You think Banner would be willing to talk to her?"

"He's a nuclear physicist not a head shrinker Steve."

"I know that but he's been studying so many techniques to deal with Hulk I just thought… Besides I don't think she's completely honest with the counselor."

"They work for SHIELD, I wonder why she wouldn't trust them," Tony allowed every bit of sarcasm him could muster fill the words.

"So do I, Tony. So do you."

"I'm just a contractor; I didn't buy the whole myth. You went through hell with her, so she knows you are on her side. The rest, well I don't think we found all the traitors, do you?" Tony softens his tone a bit, "Look I'll talk to Banner. I'm sure he'll be willing to talk to her, you just have to get her to agree to it."

Later that night when Natasha got home she walked in to find Clint sitting on the couch. Laid out on the table in front him was about a dozen of his specialized arrow tips and four guns, one of which was currently dismantled.

"Hey gorgeous," Clint said as he wiped his hands with a cloth, and then patted the space on the couch beside him. "Was wondering when you'd get home."

"Had a dinner meeting," Natasha answered as she joined him on the couch.

"Steve?"

"Banner."

A faint look of surprise crossed Clint's face. "Banner, whoa, didn't realize you had a thing for…"

"Meeting Clint, not date. Business. It will always be business with Bruce." Natasha gestured toward the table, "Bored without me?"

"Yes, always. But this is because I have a mission tomorrow. Stateside so shouldn't be gone to long, couple of days at most. We are assisting Jackson's group, taking down a domestic terror cell. I thought Steve would've told you."

"I haven't talked to him since lunch."

"Must have found out later, he called me into his office around five."

"How much of the team is involved?"

"Just me and Cap'. Relatively small potatoes so don't need Stark or Hulk." Clint answered as he completed reassembling the gun. "Are you going to be okay? I know you have another session tomorrow."

"Steve got me released from therapy. Fury agreed to let me try something else. That's why I was talking to Bruce; he's going to work with me."

"You trust him to know everything that happened?"

Natasha gave Clint a significant look, "Probably more than the therapist. He at least seems to understand I'm not interested in talking about my feelings."

"Maybe you should see about staying at Stark Tower until we get back. I mean even with Banner you still may have… reactions."

"Do you still have nightmares about Loki?"

"You know I do. Not often but…"

"Do I need to go hold your hand while you go on this mission?"

"No, but… okay point taken."

"Good, I get enough mothering from Steve."

"It's almost like having Phil back."

"Not quite," Natasha said as she leaned over and helped Clint pack up his arrow tips. "Coulson knew when not to smother you with concern."

"Coulson wasn't in love with you."

Natasha's phone buzzed around midnight. It took her a couple of tries to disentangle herself from Clint before reaching her phone on the nightstand. Natasha really wasn't the snuggle type but Clint was, especially after sex. Since he was going off on a mission the next day, Natasha was indulgent and didn't shrug him off when post coital he suddenly became an octopus and wrapped as much of him as he could around her. She'd already had her fun earlier making him beg for every piece of enjoyment she gave him so she figured this was payback.

Sliding out of bed and walking out into the hallway she answered her phone.

"Sorry I'm calling so late, but I couldn't leave in the morning without telling you first."

"Clint already told me Steve."

"I know but I wanted you to hear it from me as well. But these damn tactical meetings." Steve sighed, "Can they get to point without posturing for hours?"

Natasha chuckled, "Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D."

Steve laughed along with her for a while, but then turned serious. "Are you going to be okay? You know with both me and Clint…"

"I've already had this conversation once tonight; I'm not going through it again. Besides aren't you the one that said my strength was a turn on?" Natasha could practically hear Steve blush through the phone.

"Well yes, it is, especially when sparring. Now I know why Clint doesn't really like doing that with anyone else. But seriously Natasha what you went through, I mean it was…"

"I was tortured, raped, and nearly brainwashed. Let's use the actual words Steve. And Clint was water boarded and not too long ago was Loki's meat puppet. We all have our baggage. Even you, seventy years out of time. But I'm not hand holding either of you. Please don't try to do it to me. I'm not weak."

"I know you're not, it's just that I care."

"Then care enough to not smother me. Let me stand on my own."

"I'll try," Steve conceded. "Go out for Chinese when I get back?"

"Sure."

"Natasha, I… care about you a lot."

"Me too," Natasha responded back automatically. "I'll see you when you get back."

Bruce knocked on Natasha's door a little before seven the next evening. It had been one of his few excursions out of the tower on his own and he was doing pretty well. He practiced some of the technique he was going to teach her and it worked. As much as he had worked on his own issues, things still would hit him out of the blue. Like tonight when the cab drove through a section of town that even after all the time that had passed since the battle for New York was still mostly rubble. All neatly gathered and stacked, but rubble none the less. He kept reminding himself that any destruction the big guy had caused in this case was part of stopping an invasion, not mindless rage on a rampage.

"Hey Banner," Natasha said as she opened the door. Bruce noticed that she gave him a quick once over for before letting him in; probably looking for traces of the big guy. He had gotten used to the team being cautious; he could accept that since they still kept him around regardless.

"Nice place you and Clint have here."

"I'm sure it's not as great as a Stark Tower apartment."

"Well you can't beat Stark for opulence but this feels more, homey."

Natasha let out a small laugh, "Considering how little we are usually here, I'll take that as a compliment. Want something to drink?"

"No I'm good. Do you need something before we start?"

"No, I think I'm good. Couch?"

Bruce looked over the open floor plan of the apartment, "Actually, if we could use the dining room chairs it would be better. You don't have a problem with face to face confrontation do you?" Natasha shook her head and went to grab a couple of chairs. Bruce placed them facing each other and sat in the one that was facing away from the front door, figuring an assassin would be more comfortable seeing an exit.

"Did you have a chance to read my email today?" Bruce asked once Natasha settled into her chair.

"Yeah, I get the gist of how it works. Still not sure it's going to work."

"Well the Department of Defense believes in the power of Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing so there is that. Hopefully you be normal in no time."

"Normal?" Natasha raised her eyebrows at Bruce and glared at him in a way that caused a definite jump in his stress levels.

"Bad word choice. We'll get you back into the field soon. Now place your hands on top of mine. I prefer the tapping method, the eye movement makes me a bit dizzy. I'll assist you through the first couple of sessions." Natasha did as Bruce asked but she wasn't really touching him. Bruce could see the tension in her forearms as she placed her hands, face up a mere centimeters and a world away from his own steady hands. Slowly he moved his thumbs around to touch the center of her palms. "You are going to have to trust me a little. I know that's hard, but you want to get better, right?"

"Of course," Natasha responded, relaxing her arms, letting her elbows droop and the weight her hands press against Bruce.

"Thank you. Now when you are ready we'll start the process of reliving the day your parents, your real parents, died."

The first session lasted about two hours. Natasha, if she was to admit it, was pretty exhausted afterward. Bruce was amazed at how well he was able to distance himself from Natasha's words and be there for her like he knew she needed. "How are you doing?" Bruce asked for about the fifth time in the last thirty minutes.

"I'm fine, really Bruce. I thought we weren't going to be all touchy feely."

"We aren't. I still need to access your physical and mental state to see if it's working. I don't want to leave you more traumatized than before, so bear with me. Once more, I just want you to think about your parents dying and tell me if you register any distress.

Natasha closed her eyes for a few moments, sitting very straight and still in the chair. Finally she opened her eyes, "Not really."

"Do you think it's because of the EMDR or because of the walls that I'm sure you have expertly crafted to deal with such things?"

"Probably a bit of both. But it is better than before."

"Well that's a start. I think when Dr. Shapiro created the technique she didn't quite have someone like you in mind."

"And what am I Banner?"

Bruce quickly backpedaled, "I don't mean you so much as your um, training. Your mind has been manipulated to shut down emotions. People who have traumatic events shut down emotions to cope but probably nowhere near what your previous…employers taught you."

"Been reading my files I see."

"Only what was necessary to prepare. But in light of that we should probably proceed slowly. We may be undoing some of the previous work and it could cause unexpected results. I don't want to make things worse. So we'll try this again next week."

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow is too soon Natasha."

"Tomorrow or I'll work on it myself," Natasha voice was calm but Bruce could tell by eyes and slightly elevating breathing she was anything but.

"You are not being reasonable."

"I need back in the field Bruce; I need to find Kolstov's trail before it gets cold. SHEILD isn't really going to help us here so all we have is me."

"No we don't. We all are going to help. I know Tony is already trying to trace Kolstov through Stark Industries' old weapon sales and I'm sure Steve and Clint are doing everything they can. We could use your help but we don't need you relapsing either."

"Tomorrow."

"Not backing down are you?" Natasha shook her head and Bruce sighed. "Okay. Tomorrow, but you have to be completely honest with me. You have to trust me with your emotions and with the truth, agreed?"

"Agreed."

That night the dreams came again; of hanging from a beam, of torture, and the smell of two burning bodies. Natasha feels Kolstov pulling her away from the fire but now there are two sets of hands on her, not one. The other's she doesn't recognize but her attention is immediately pulled back to the fire.

Natasha wakes up screaming, "Not my parents. You are not my parents." Sweaty and out of breath she throws back the covers and gets out of bed. She walks to the kitchen and pours herself a glass of water. Heading back to her room she stops at the dining room table. She sets the glass down and pulls out one of the chairs. She sits in it very straight, very still, and replays the death of her real parents in her head while rhythmically, alternately, pressing her thumbs into the center of her palms.


	3. Discovery

A/N - It's been almost four months since an update. ALMOST FOUR MONTHS. So sorry loyal readers. Problem is I've been writing the end of the story but was having writers block on the parts in between. Hopefully this will start to make up for the time lag. Inspirational music for this chapter "From Where You Are" By Lifehouse.

"Hawkeye, report. Any sign of our target?"

"I've got dick all Cap'. Seems like the intel on this was just as fucked up as everything else on this mission."

"We were given a window, not an exact time, patience."

Clint shifted his weight back to his other leg. This crouched position was starting to really hurt but he couldn't risk standing up at the moment. "We are three hours past the time this guy was supposed to show up. Not to mention days past when this whole thing was supposed done. I don't have time for this," Clint snapped over the radio.

"This isn't your first mission, you know things…" Steve's voice softened to a near whisper even though they were on a private channel. "You're worried about her, aren't you?"

"Aren't you?"

Steve didn't answer the question; despite the pang in his heart when he immediately saw her face in his mind. "You've been gone overnight since…then. She was fine."

"Because you were there. Now, she's alone again they could…"

"Not alone, Clint. She has Fury, Hill…"

"They were so much help last time…"

"Stark and Banner. She's supposed to meet with Banner remember? I'm sure he is checking in with her between sessions. If anything seems the least bit wrong I know they will call me. Okay?"

Clint let out a breath, "Okay. Just not used to people caring about Tasha. She can be a bit…"

"Intimidating? Scary?" Hawkeye chuckled over the radio in response. "But she's part of the team. It's not just you and her anymore, but all of us."

Hawkeye rolls his shoulders trying to relax, trying to put Natasha out of his head for the moment. He was too far away to help her anyway. He tried to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach the thought gave him. Luckily there was a distraction. "Hey Cap', looks like the guest of honor has finally showed up."

"I'll radio in, wait for my signal."

"It's not like I have anything else to do."

* * *

"Go home Natasha," Bruce repeated for what seemed the hundredth time. "I'll come over in a few days and we can try again." He still refused to look up from his work.

"I'm not going anywhere Banner. I was so close last time. You said you would come back tonight. I waited an hour."

"I didn't say I would come back, you told me to. I don't take orders from you, especially when you are being unreasonable and putting yourself in danger."

Natasha grabbed Bruce's shoulder turning Bruce away from his work and towards her. "I'm too close to seeing his face. I can't stop now, no matter the risk. The trail is getting cold and he's going to get away."

"Let go and step away Natasha," Bruce responded very evenly and very tensely. He closed his eyes, trying not to let her anger feed into his. Natasha immediately dropped her hand and moved to the farthest wall of the lab. Not that it would help much if she had pushed Bruce too far. After a couple of quiet minutes Bruce opened his eyes and sighed. "I know you want to figure out who the other man is. But this therapy was never meant to be used that way. Besides all this pushing isn't helping anyone. I know the technique, but I'm no therapist. I need a break, you need a break." Bruce got up from his stool and walked over to Natasha. "If you relax the image may become clear naturally. If not, I'm sure S.H.I.E.L.D. can find you a competent hypnotherapist. But if you insist on keeping this pace you will need to find a replacement for me as well. I can't handle this."

Natasha huffed at Bruce but didn't say anything. He knew she still didn't trust S.H.I.E.L.D. with this. "Fine," she eventually relented. "When do you think you'll be ready again?"

"Three days. Give me three days, okay?"

"Three days," Natasha repeated as she turned to leave.

"You know you can just come and hang out over here if you want," Bruce called after her. "We are your friends as well."

Natasha stumbled. Not sure of what to say she mumbled a non-committal okay as she proceeded down the hall.

When Natasha arrived home she went immediately to the dining room. Pulling out a chair she sits down and starts to replay the horrible scene in her head again. She looks down at her hands to start the tapping when the image fades. Taking a deep breath and begins again, only to be distracted by the refrigerator cycling on in the next room. A third attempt quickly falters with the cheering from the upstairs neighbors. After a few more attempts, Natasha gives up, shoving the chair back under the table and heads off to take a shower.

She refused to accept that part of the water that ran down her face tasted of salt. That the more she thought about the three days, seventy-two hours, that Kolstov could go deeper underground, the saltier it became.

The shower did nothing to relax her and the idea of tossing and turning in bed alone held little appeal. Instead, Natasha collapsed on the couch, turned on the TV while checking her email on the phone. There was not a lot there. With Natasha still being on leave she was just included on the major announcement lists. She reluctantly opened the casualty reports breathing a sigh of relief when Clint and Steve weren't listed. Logically she knew that Fury would've informed the team immediately if anything had happened but still she never trusted completely.

Finishing her email she looks up to see what is on TV. It's some ballet performance. She gently scratches at her healing leg wound and muses about how different her life could've been. Natasha kicks off her shoes and instinctively points her feet. "I may need to go take classes again," she tells the TV. She points and flexes a few more times and then with a sigh pulls her feet onto the couch and watches the rest of the ballet.

* * *

_The first thing she notices is that she's on pointe'. Secondly as she looked down she realized she was dressed in white. Thirdly, she couldn't move her arms; they were stretched out on either side of her, tied to a beam._

"_Ah Nichenko (nothing) my beautiful white swan."_

"_This is not how it happened," Natasha responds confused._

"_Of course not," Kolstov replied with a laugh. "Who would ever put a whore like you in white?"_

"_I'm not a whore," she replied calmly, defiantly._

"_Come, come now, you are among friends, let's not lie. Whore, cheater, traitor…"_

"…_thief, liar, defector." A voice came from the right. She could see his face now, just as clearly as she saw Kolstov's._

"_Who are you?" Natasha demanded._

"_Not one of your victims," he responds dismissively. "Where was I? Murderer, slaughterer, black widow… should be red, like your gushing ledger."_

"_Who are you?" Natasha screams at the man, pulling at her restraints._

"_In due time. When I find you, my name will be the last thing you hear before I put a bullet into your brain. I told Kolstov this was a bad idea." The man turns and walks out of the warehouse._

_Natasha tries to reach out to grab him, to run, to catch him, "Who are you?"_

"It's me Nat, Clint. Open your eyes for me baby, please" the archer's nervous request didn't reach her ears. His first indication was that she didn't chastise him for the endearment. It took two more requests before at last Natasha opened her eyes to find a slightly worried Clint in front of her.

"I saw him," she blurts out.

"Saw who Tasha?"

"The second man, the one with Kolstov."

"Do you know him?" Clint joined her on the couch, pulling one of her hands into his.

"No. Don't know his name, maybe I never heard it."

"This is still good. If you can describe him, we can get a name. I'll call headquarters, they can send over an artist while it's still fresh in your mind…"

"They won't send anyone, top priority, remember?" Natasha let out a humorless laugh, "Besides I'm not an agent."

"Yes, you are," Clint squeezed her hand. "Another week or two and you'll be back in the field."

Natasha shook her head, "They are never going to trust me Clint. Just waiting for the brainwashing to finally take over…"

"I trust you. Steve, Stark, Banner, Thor, we all trust you and that's all that matters."

"Fury?"

"Fury trusts no one. Hey I have a thought, Steve can draw, and you'd probably feel more comfortable…" Clint fished his phone out of his pocket and started to dial.

"No Clint," Natasha responded with a panic even she couldn't quite understand. Taking a breath, she continued, "You two just got back. He needs to rest; you both need to rest…"

"You know he doesn't sleep much, besides he would do anything to help…Hey Cap' have you left headquarters yet?"

"I can't, he, not right now," Natasha whispered.

"Hold on a sec Steve," Clint looked at Natasha, her eyes filled with tears she refused to shed through a sheer force of will. "He won't think less of you," Clint whispered back. He let go of her hand, reaching up to stroke her cheek. "In fact, I think he would love you even more."

"He doesn't love me…"

"The fuck he doesn't Nat. And he is just as worried as I am about you. Let him help."

Natasha finally nodded in agreement, "I need something to drink," She said as she suddenly headed to the kitchen.

"Sorry to leave you hanging there. When you are done there, any chance you could swing by our place. We need your drawing skills, Natasha remembered what Kolstov's accomplice looks like."

* * *

Steve had to resist the urge to just grab his jacket and go. He was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent first and right now that sucked. He filled out his paperwork for the completed assignment then sent an email to Clint reminding him to do the same. Steve tried to focus on answering emails but his mind kept drifting to Natasha. She was remembering more which was good; he just worried how it was affecting her.

After another fifteen minutes he gave up and shut off the computer. With a promise to himself to come in extra early the next day he grabbed his gear and headed out to help.

* * *

"You would've hated this mission Nat," Clint said as he joined Natasha in the kitchen leaning against her back, wrapping his arms around her. "I probably would've walked off had it not been for Steve."

"You wouldn't have," Tasha replied as she refilled her glass and recapped the bottle of vodka. "Always threatening but you never do."

"I would've this time," Clint retorted as he nuzzled against Natasha's neck, "I was worried about you, he talked me down."

"Why were you worried? I was fine, besides Banner has been helping me most nights."

"That's what Steve kept saying, but I'm sure he didn't do this for you." Clint ran his fingers under her shirt and over her stomach. Gentle petting strokes that cause her to lean into his embrace. When Natasha reached forward to retrieve her glass, Clint caught her hand, entangling her fingers with his own laying both on her stomach. "I'm used to the fact that you may die on a mission. Hell I'm pretty sure that's how I'm going out. But to have someone turn you against S.H.I.E.L.D. … against me, I just don't want to think…"

"I was against you before Clint."

"That was before I feel in love you Natasha Romanoff. Having you against me now would be hurt worse than anything as simple as death could do."

Natasha nodded solemnly. She remembered the pain she felt, a knife slicing through her very soul, when she heard the words, 'Barton's been compromised.'

There was a knock at the door.

With a quick kiss on her neck, Clint disentangled himself from Natasha. "You should get that. I'm sure he's not looking forward to seeing my pretty face when the door opens."

Natasha padded over to the door. Despite the seriousness of the reason he was on her doorstep, a smile spread across Steve's face the moment he saw her. "I missed you," tumbled out of his mouth.

"Me too," Natasha whispered.

Steve leaned towards Natasha but stopped when he saw Clint enter the living room.

"Kiss the girl already," Clint sighed. "She's had a bad night." When Natasha and Steve finally came up for air, they joined Clint on the couch.

"So," Steve started with a slightly embarrassed clearing of his throat. "Banner's technique was useful?"

Natasha nodded, "It's endorsed by the D.O.D. so Fury should accept it when my evaluation comes up."

"He better," Clint snapped. "Wasn't like his guy was helping you any."

"Well," Natasha added a little sheepishly. "I may have pushed Banner more than he pushed me. Don't worry Hulk didn't pay a visit."

"Always playing with fire Nat," Clint teased as he reached and grabbed her hand again; bringing it to his lips before lowering it back into her lap but not letting go. He then leaned his head on her shoulder and began to rub small circles into the back of her hand.

"Clint?" Natasha asked.

"Uh hmm," Clint murmured nuzzling his head more against her shoulder.

The room was quiet, Natasha let the unasked question just hang in the air. This behavior was so unlike Clint. Not to say that the archer wasn't affectionate, it just was usually more direct, more intent on getting Natasha's clothes off as soon as possible but lately…

"He really missed you out there," Steve interjected.

"He always misses me," Natasha responded dismissively. "You know babe all those hours just sitting and waiting out in the field I could only think of one thing, how nice you would look spread across my bed," Natasha mimicked the usual greeting she received when Clint came back from a solo mission.

"He worried about your safety Natasha," Steve says as he takes her other hand. "He was concerned that something may happen to you."

"I wasn't going to let that happen again. I'm sure Fury has a stake in keeping me safe as well not to mention the rest of the team."

"That's what I told him."

Natasha turned to Clint, "I appreciate your concern, but…this is not you." Natasha added with a whisper, "This is not my fearless archer."

"Oh don't worry," Clint responded in a similar whisper but with a slight growl that caused Natasha to fight hard to suppress a shiver. "Your archer will be back in time for bed. But let me have this now." Natasha nodded mutely in response and Clint laid his head back on her shoulder.

"We should probably get started," Natasha turned back to Steve. "You need to get home eventually."

Steve nodded and reached into his pack, retrieving his sketch pad and tube of pencils. He flips to a blank page and after giving Natasha's hand one last reassuring squeeze pulls out one of the pencils. "Okay, let's start with his eyes."

It took a couple of hours, but now they had a clear sketch of Kolstov's accomplice. It had been a rough time for all. Several times Natasha squeezed Clint's hand so tightly that a lesser man would've yelped in pain. Clint didn't even flinch, just continued making circular patterns with his thumb on the back of her hand. He knew Natasha would hate if he acknowledged her distress. Steve, on the other hand, reached out to her.

"It will be all right Natasha," Steve said sitting his pencil down to stroke her face. Before his hand reached her, he saw his sketch pad sail across the room.

"I'll be fine once you get the drawing right," Natasha snapped. Steve was torn between snapping right back at her or wiping away the one angry little tear that had escaped her eyes; betraying her as it left a lonely trail down her cheek. Taking a cue the archer who remained unmoved, Steve simply got up and retrieved his sketchpad as if nothing happened. Opening it back up to the picture he ripped the page out and balled it up and placed it on the table. "Let's start with a fresh page. Tell me again about his eyes."

When the sketch was finished they all looked at it in silence for a few minutes.

"That's him," Natasha whispered, breaking the silence. "I wish I knew who he was."

"Doesn't look familiar to me," Clint added. "Just means I haven't had a chance to kill him yet." That received a small smile from Natasha.

"I'll run it through the database tomorrow. Probably should make a copy for Stark as well." Steve said. "You never know what he has access to." All was quiet again. Steve moved the sketch pad to the table and started to reach for Natasha's free hand. He changed his mind at the last second and instead placed his hands in his lap. Natasha reached out interweaving her fingers with his and pulling his hand into her lap next to Clint's. Steve stiffened at first but after realizing he was the only one concerned, kissed the top of Natasha's head and relaxed.

The audible gurgling of Steve's empty stomach put an end to the moment. "I should probably head home," Steve mumbled by way of apology.

"I should probably head to bed myself. I have this hard ass of a handler who's got a thing for punctuality," Clint joked.

"I'm not that bad."

"Don't let him get to you Steve," Natasha said patting his leg. "Coulson was always reminding someone about their punctuality problem."

"Hey, when a shot needs to be taken, I'm always on time… I'm always on time for other things as well," Clint added. "Speaking of which, I need a shower, care to join me Nat?"

"Sorry, I've already had one."

"That's okay, you'll need another one soon enough," Clint replied salaciously as he headed off to the bathroom. "See you in the morning Cap'."

"On time," Steve stammered back. He had made the mistake of looking at Natasha and his mind was suddenly flooded with images of a naked and very wet female assassin. "I should…" he licked his lips.

"Yes. I'll see you tomorrow. We still on for Chinese?"

Steve nodded, "I didn't forget."

"Maybe you'll have a name for me by then."

"Perhaps. But we won't talk about it then. If I find out beforehand I'll call you but no shop talk at dinner."

"But we need to work on getting Kolstov…"

"No Natasha," Steve demanded, setting his jaw in that determined way that made her melt, just a bit. "I promise you we will get him. But you need to relax. I know you've been pushing yourself way too much. I don't even have to ask do I?"

"Maybe."

"It's more than a maybe. Now promise me, no shop talk and you'll try and enjoy yourself tomorrow?" Natasha nodded. Steve continued to stare at her, jaw set. Had it been anyone else, she'd have slapped him by now. "I need you to say it."

With anyone else she would've been defiant, or at least sarcastic. But she knew that look, that determination, wasn't about power but concern. Steve would do just about anything to make sure the team that she was okay. No matter what they may say or think differently. There was no changing his mind once he was determined. "I promise Steve," Natasha relented.

* * *

Natasha arrived at the restaurant about twenty minutes before Steve. It was raining pretty hard and he had to leave his bike at work and catch a cab. But those small minutes was all it took for Natasha to doubt Steve would come at all. She shook away the thought with a visible shake of her head. She didn't know if it was the lingering effects of the kidnapping or the blossoming relationship with the super soldier that was shaking her confidence. While she loved that she could let her guard down around him; the doubt, the fear…hopefully getting back into the field would fix that.

Steve was all apologies when he arrived, and hungry. He was halfway through his second entrée before he realized Natasha wasn't eating. Just pushing her food around the plate, occasionally breaking it into smaller pieces.

"Food okay Natasha? If it's not, you can send it…"

"Just not hungry…Not used to feeling this way." Natasha stabbed a piece of food and forced herself to eat it. "It's nothing, I'm fine."

"Don't lie to me Natasha. If you are still being affected by the kidnapping…"

"No shop talk, remember."

"Not shop talk, just me being worried about my…"

"Team member?"

"Girlfriend," Steve whispered. "If I'm allowed to call you that." Natasha nodded with a hint of a smile. She busied herself cutting her food into even smaller pieces. Steve continued to eat but much slower as he contemplated how he could help. Sure he had made the promise of no shop talk but Natasha Romanoff stopped being "shop" the night her and Clint arrived on his doorstep.

"When is the last time you sparred or been to the gun range?" Steve asked suddenly.

"Not since before… why?"

"Maybe you need to get back into a routine. The more normal your day is the more normal things will get. You don't even have to use the facilities at headquarters. Apparently we get privileges at most places in the city."

Natasha nodded, "Would be nice to have something else to do."

"And you'll be ready when… you know… you'll be ready. Or maybe ballet studio, something to relax you."

Natasha scratched at her healing scar as her eyes widened just slightly. Most anyone else wouldn't have noticed.

"I've read your file Natasha," Steve said as he reached across to briefly touch her face. "All of it," he continued staring into her eyes. "I hope one day I may get a private performance."

Natasha was the first to look away. "I'm a bit rusty… You probably just want to see me in the outfit anyway." She saw a flash of movement in the corner of her eye. "Steve? Are you blushing?" Natasha reached across the table and gently swatted away the hands that were covering Steve's face. The shy smile and reddening cheeks went a long away to burning away many of the doubts that crowded her mind. While she didn't match Steve's voracity, she did finish most of her meal.

By silent agreement they decided the date would be way too short if they ended it with just dinner. So after driving Steve back to pick up his bike since the rain had ended, Natasha followed him out of the city to his house.

It hadn't been all that long since the last time Natasha had been at Steve's house; but upon walking into the living room she realized there were a lot more DVDs than the time before. "I thought you were saying away from EBay," Natasha called out as Steve went into the kitchen to turn on the coffee maker.

"I did. Unfortunately I passed a flea market one day. They had so many for only a few bucks each."

"You are not going to catch up on every movie created in the last 70 years."

"I know just trying to hit the highlights."

Natasha spots one particular movie on the shelves, "The Mask is not a highlight."

"It has its moments."

"Men," Natasha mumbled under her breath.

"Clint thought it was funny."

Natasha sighed, "I know." She continued to survey the new movie acquisitions. Rolling her shoulders to loosen them she found them much less tense than they had been in days. Having Clint home was part of that. She knew no matter what, he had her back. The other part she knew was Steve. Despite her best efforts to the contrary sometimes, he had her heart.

"I hope this tastes okay," Steve said appearing next to her holding two mugs. "I haven't gotten around to trying this. It's some new blend from South America."

"Stark gift?"

"Of course. Don't want to know how much it cost. So what do we want to watch?"

"You pick."

"I always pick."

"It's how I learn more about you," Natasha retorted. "Your file is pretty thin."

"And yours is really thick. But I want to know the flesh and bone Natasha, not just someone else's opinion."

"Maybe you shouldn't," Natasha murmured attempting to swallow the words.

"Not running away Natasha. I thought I made that clear. Everything I've read about you just makes me care more, not less. You've overcome a lot of horrible things, done to you as well as you have done to others. Maybe you could've been another Kolstov or worse. But you're not and you are never going to be. It's just not in you."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I just am. Pick a movie, please. Let me get to know the now you."

Natasha didn't feel up to arguing, she would lose anyway. She turned back to the shelves of DVDs; nothing was really catching her eye. Truth was she didn't have a lot of time or patience for movies. But Clint and Steve both seemed to consider them a major hobby. She was about to give up and ask Steve to choose something when her eyes fell upon it. "When did you get this?" She asked removing the case from the shelf.

"Right before leaving town. I had been looking for it since I found out what your prior profession was. Most movies sites say that The Red Shoes is the best movie about ballet.

"It is," she breathed. "Have you seen it yet?"

"No. I was waiting to watch it with you."

Steve realized that he would have to watch the movie again because he barely saw a scene. And those few he saw where only as a reflection on Natasha's face. She was usually an expert at hiding her emotions but there on the couch with Steve's arm wrapped around her she was an open book. Steve was eagerly reading every page. Her deep sigh was the only thing that let Steve know the movie was over. "Very good movie," Steve said as he reached for the remote.

"You weren't watching it."

Steve chuckled nervously. "Guilty. I couldn't help it; you will always be more fascinating than any movie. You were just so unguarded I couldn't take my eyes off of you. But you enjoyed it, right?"

"It's my favorite movie," Natasha replied somewhat coldly. "It's probably in my file." Steve tried not to sigh out loud. One of these days he would learn not to point out Natasha's moments of weakness. He didn't think they were weaknesses but that didn't matter.

"It's not. S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't care about that. But I most definitely do."

"I've got to go to the bathroom," Natasha snapped, getting up and pushing past Steve.

"Stay with me tonight," Steve blurted out. "Please." Natasha glanced toward the guest room. Steve shook his head, "My room, my bed, with me."

"It was just a dream yesterday. No flashbacks, I'm fine. It's not like after a therapy session."

"I know. That's not why I want you to stay."

"Then why?"

"When I was out there only one thing occupied my mind beside the mission, you. I wanted nothing more than to get back and see you, touch you, kiss you. And not because I thought you needed me, that you needed comfort or my help. I'm more selfish than that. I have the most beautiful girlfriend in the world and I should be able to take advantage of that."

Natasha turned to continue to the bathroom. "I'll let Clint I'll be back home in the morning."

When Natasha walked into Steve's bedroom there was a shirt already on the bed waiting for her. She could here Steve in his office emptying his pockets of his wallet and keys. Across the front of the shirt said "I have a dream…" it was followed by Martin Luther King 1929 – 1968. "Where did you pick this up?" she called out to Steve.

"Same flea market as the DVDs, been reading his writings lately. Wish I had been awake to meet him. The shirt runs a bit large so I figure it would make a good sleep shirt."

Natasha nodded as she put it on, chalking up the dream message to coincidence. The shirt was indeed large and a bit long. But not long enough to cover the healing wound on her thigh. She was trying to pull the shirt down further when Steve walked in. He kneels down in front of her and gently but firmly pushes her hands away.

"It looks like it's healing nicely."

"Still going to leave a big scar," Natasha hissed, exasperated. Steve nodded as he checked the rest of both legs noting this was the only visual reminder of those horrific five days. "Clint said it shows I'm a real agent now, like him."

Steve laughed, remembering a time Clint was comparing his battle scars to the super soldier's perfect skin.

"Guess I'll have to get rid of all my really short skirts," Natasha said as she tried to turn and walk away. Steve caught her hands and kept her in place. She wouldn't look at him, just clenched and unclenched her hands as much as she could with them being enveloped by Steve's.

"Natasha, say something, please."

"It's stupid, I'm an assassin, spy, agent and all I can think about is how impossible it's going to be seducing secrets out of men because of this stupid scar." She let out a shaky breath. "I used to be stronger than this."

"You still are. What you went through would shake anyone. You probably still having him taking up residence in your head don't you? Drown him out; he doesn't deserve to be there. And as far as your ability to seduce," Steve leans forward and begins kissing along the scarred tissue. "If any man isn't completely enamored with you the moment you walk into a room is either blind or homosexual." Steve continued to kiss along the scar. After completing the maneuver a couple of times he moves his attention further up her thigh, pushing the shirt out of the way. Natasha resists the urge to grab her soldier by his hair and urge him up quicker to where she wants, where she desperately need him to be right now. When Steve reaches the lace edge of the redhead's panties, he takes a stuttered breath and sits back. Natasha whole body stiffens waiting for Steve to say he's changed his mind, for him to send her away.

"I know that I probably haven't been as…exciting as your other boyfriends." Steve nervously ran his hand over his hair, "I'm sure way less exciting than Clint…"

"I don't need another Clint…"

"I know, you've told me. It's just, well, I've gotten pretty used to being really good at things, almost immediately, and I don't really know what I'm doing here. Well I know the mechanics it's just I…" Steve took a deep breath, stilled his mind and looked up at Natasha who was being her usual unreadable self. "I want to show you how much I missed you…how much I love you." He found himself incredibly embarrassed, knowing Clint would be much smoother at this. Steve started to drop his head; he could lead a team into a firefight, but seduction… He felt fingers slide along his jaw to his chin. He let them lift up his head, his eyes to meet hers yet again.

One word came from her mouth, just above a whisper, "Please."

* * *

Natasha drifted off to sleep with Steve's hand lying protectively on her belly. It didn't take long before she was dreaming. _The first thing she noticed was that she wasn't in the warehouse this time, but on the ground, grass to be specific._ _The second thing was that her leg was in excruciating pain. The third, she noticed as she looked up at the figure in front of her…"He's right, I've never left you, my work is yet complete."_

"_You can't be here," Natasha whispered, trying to look past him to the chairs and table she knew should be there. She remembered this, it was Steve's backyard, and she was safe…_

"_You can't escape me," Kolstov yelled bringing her attention back to him. "I can be anywhere, there is no sanctuary here." Kolstov places his foot on her hand, steadily increasing the pressure. "I will remake you. I will bring out the monster we have always known was there. The one you try to hide now. I can't wait until I have you destroy them all."_

"_I won't, you won't, you can't…"_

"_I can and will Nichenko, it is just a matter of time. It will be so easy, I was almost there."_

_Natasha grabbed at the grass with her free hand and tries to pull herself away from Kolstov. But what she sees out of the corner of her eye stops her. She grabs and with great difficulty is finally able to open it. It's the drawing Steve made of her. She takes a few moments to trace the lines of the image. Then slowly, painfully she frees her other hand and stands up, barely able to hold her balance because of the pain. _

"_You will never, can never bring out the monster." With both hands she shoves the drawing at him until it's an inch away from Kolstov's face. "It's… not… in… me."_


End file.
